


Weeping Willows

by some_mighty_fine_print



Category: Keith Lee Castle - Fandom, Wind in the Willows - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Keith Lee Castle, Power Play, Wind in the Willows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:33:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25706704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/some_mighty_fine_print/pseuds/some_mighty_fine_print
Summary: We all know telling a child not to do something is a bad thing. Because we know, deep down, that they’ll find a way to do it anyway. So, if you’re told to stay away from the Wild Wood, you’ll find a way to see why everyone thinks you should stay away. It might take you a while…but, you’ll find a way.And Sally Squirrel… did.{As in the 1996 film adaptation of ‘Wind in the Willows’: ‘Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride’, the part of Clarence Weasel is portrayed by Keith Lee Castle}
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

Prologue~

"Don't ever wander alone in the Wild Wood. Ferrets, Stoats, Foxes, Weasels, and mischievous Rabbits call it home, but not us. We of the meadow and of the forest and river bank shouldn't go there unless we absolutely have to."

"But...we were originally from the Wood..." young Sally Squirrel frowned up at her mother.

"Yes, but many generations ago...before it was wild, and the Weasels and Stoats ran rampant through there." Her mother replied with a sigh. "When I was a girl the path to Old Mister Badger's was still safe..." she turned back to the nuts roasting over the fire. "But no more."

"So I'll never be able to walk there?" Sally Squirrel asked quietly.

"Not if you've any sense to you , you won't." her mother answered quickly. "Not even near the edge of the Wild Wood. Do you hear me?"

"Yes Mother." Sally Squirrel looked up at her Mother and smiled. "But... I can still see Mister Rat, can't I?"

"Of course, munchkin..." Her Mother smiled easily again. "Of course..."

But, of course, telling someone not to do something sparks an interest deep within them. Makes them curious and naughty. And, Sally Squirrel knew that, when she was older, she wanted to walk... in the Wild Wood...


	2. A Voice in the Dark

Chapter 1 ~ A Voice In The Dark

{8 years later...} 

Sally Squirrel grinned as she crawled through the long grass behind Rat's home on the River, intending to surprise him; peeking over the ridge that made the river bank's highest point to see if Rat was already out on the river. She frowned slightly as she saw him already bringing back someone, a Mole, from the other side of the River Bank.

Her smile returned however as she listened to Rat talk about the river to the Mole.

"You know, I've never been in a boat before." The Mole stated excitedly as he looked down at the Rive in awe, and Sally smiled at Rat's quick reaction.

"What?" cried the Rat, open-mouthed. "Never been in a...! You never...! well I! What have you been doing, then?"

"Is it so nice as all that?" asked the Mole shyly, though Sally saw he was quite prepared to believe it as he leant back in his seat and surveyed the cushions, the oars, the rowlocks, and all the fascinating fittings, and felt the boat sway lightly under him.

"Nice? It's the only thing," said the Water Rat solemnly as he leant forward for his stroke; and Sally Squirrel crawled a little faster to keep up with Rat's rowing. "Believe me, my young friend; there is nothing, absolutely nothing half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats. Simply messing," he went on dreamily: "messing about in boats; messing-"

"Look ahead, Rat!" cried the Mole suddenly. It was too late. The boat struck the bank full tilt, and Sally hand to cover her mouth with her hands to quite her giggles at Rat tumbled back in his seat.

The dreamer, the joyous oarsman, lay on his back at the bottom of the boat, his heels in the air. "About in boats or with boats," the Rat went on composedly, picking himself up with a pleasant laugh and ducking quickly into his river bank home. "In or out of 'em, it doesn't matter. Nothing seems really to matter, that's the charm of it. Whether you get away, or whether you don't; whether you arrive at your destination or whether you reach somewhere else, or whether you never get anywhere at all," he stuck his head out a window and Sally shook her head at her old friend, though he couldn't see her, and lay in the grass, content to eavesdrop.

"Oh, What a day I'm having!" The Mole waggled his toes from sheer happiness, spread his chest with a sigh of full contentment, and leant back blissfully into the soft cushions; and, after a short interval, reappeared staggering under a fat wicker luncheon-basket.

"Shove that under your feet," Rat said to the Mole as he passed it down into the boat. Then he untied the painter and took the sculls again.

"What's inside it?" asked the Mole, wriggling with curiosity.

"There's cold chicken inside it," replied the Rat briefly, then began reciting the contents of the hamper so quick his words all slurred together and made Sally giggled along with the Mole as Rat spoke: "...coldtongue,coldham,coldbeef,pickledgherkins,salad,frenchrolls,cresssandwiches, pottedmeat,gingerbeer,lemonade,sodawater-"

"O stop, stop!" cried the Mole in ecstasies, and Sally was glad – she was getting hungry listening to Rat go on! "This is too much!"

"Do you really think so?" enquired the Rat seriously. "It's only what I always take on these little excursions; and the other animals are always telling me that I 'm a mean beast and cut it very fine!"

Sally crawled through the grass on the high ridge of the River Bank, continuing to listen to the new friends' conversation. Smiling at Rat's remarks and remembering being young and asking the same questions as the Mole on her first time out on the River with dear old Ratty. Their conversation held her interest for some time, but, when it began to waver, the Mole began asking about a place she'd been forbidden to talk about for some time... a place she most decidedly wanted to know more about. So, when Mole asked, she listened intently.

"What lies over there?" asked the Mole, waving a paw towards a background of woodland that darkly framed the water-meadows on one side of the river.

"That? O, that's just the Wild Wood," said the Rat shortly. "We don't go there very much, we river-bankers."

"Aren't they- -aren't they very nice people in there?" said the Mole a trifle nervously.

"Well," replied the Rat, "let me see. The squirrels are all right. And the rabbits - some of 'em. And then there's Badger, of course. He lives right in the heart of it; wouldn't live anywhere else, either, if you paid him to do it. Dear old Badger! Nobody interferes with him. They'd better not," he added significantly.

"Why, who should interfere with him?" asked the Mole.

"Well, of course there are others," explained the Rat in a hesitating sort of way. "Weasels... stoats... foxes. They're all right in a way I 'm very good friends with them pass the time of day when we meet, and all that but they break out some- times, there's no denying it, and then... well, you can't really trust them, and that's the fact."

The Mole seemed, to Sally, to be interested in the subject as he asked again. "And beyond the Wild Wood?" he asked.

"Beyond the Wild Wood comes the Wide World," said the Rat. "And that's something that doesn't matter, either to you or me. I've never been there, and I 'm never going, nor you either, if you've got any sense at all."

Sally Squirrel let the boat drift on away then, not bothering to keep up with it as she looked across the River and saw the Wild Wood standing, tall, dark, and ominous, on the far side of the meadow on other side of the River Bank. She peeked over the long grass to see if Rat and Mole had continued on out of sight, and smiled nervously when she saw that they had; creeping through the grass to slide down to the waters' edge.

Above her, on a branch, she could see a rope children, and she before her, had used to swing into the river when swimming, and smiled. That rope would surely carry her across the river to the opposite bank... and she wouldn't even get her tail wet!

Picking up a long stick to her right, Sally tugged the rope over to her and wrapped her hands around the thickly twined fiber and pushed out from the bank; curling her tail around herself as she swung out over the water and reached for a tree branch on the other side. Long, delicately clawed fingers gripped the branch and lifted her up into the tree on the other side; feet scampering towards and then down the trunk after fastening to rope to the branch she'd reached.

With a glance over her shoulder and a quick scout of the river bank, Sally was comforted in the knowledge no one had seen her swing across. Quick as she could, she crossed the meadow and then paused by the tree-line that signaled the beginning of the Wild Wood. She swallowed as she looked into the wood beyond, dimed by the thick canopy the trees made above the woodland floor. Sally was certain that the tree cover was so dense that, if it were to rain, no water would reach the floor. And yet, even at the edge as she was, she could feel the dark, dank, wet, warmth created by decades of fallen, decomposing leaves and branches. She took a tentative step past the first line of trees; she would only go a little ways in to look around...surely that would be enough to dampen her curiosity, wouldn't it?

But, like any new place, the further she went into the Wild Wood, the more alien and fascinating this newest part of her world became. She hid behind a tree as several rabbits hopped past chattering about an upcoming market day and how they hoped the humans wouldn't interfere again, but they passed quickly and Sally Squirrel could go on. The sun began to lower in the sky and what little light there was in the wood began to fade; soon there would be only darkness unless she could find a lantern...but she doubted anyone in here would lend her one once dark fell.

A little disheartened that she couldn't press on, Sally turned to head for home; picking her way quickly and quietly through the underbrush. Only a little ways back the way she'd come however, she was overcome by the sensation of being watched. She swallowed thickly and picked up her pace, but the feeling never lessened; if anything, the feeling grew stronger the further she walked. But, in the fading light, she could see no one whenever she paused to look behind.

She turned, walking backwards a few paces as her eyes strained to see if anyone was indeed following her. But, with her back turned to the way she'd come, she didn't see the tree root she'd sidestepped on her way into the wood, and tripped; falling backwards and letting out a sharp cry of pain as her hands, braced behind herself to catch her, landed on old, rusted, barbed wire hidden beneath the leaf litter on the woodland floor.

Sally grimaced as she lifted her hands up from the barbed wire and brought them around to rest in her lap to inspect them. A few, startled tears from the pain fell from her eyes as she inspected the wounds. Her right hand didn't seem so bad...but her left needed bandaging at the least. A dark chuckle ahead of Sally made her head snap up and she crawled to her feet, cradling her left hand gingerly.

She took a shaky breath as she looked back towards where the sound had come from. "Is... is someone there?"

"Yes." Another dark chuckle answered her. "Are you lost, little one?"

"N-no..." Sally bit her lip and leant back against the tree on whose root she'd tripped, protecting her back should this individual decided to come at her from behind.

"Are you sure?" the same dark voice asked. "I'm more than certain I'd remember a little Squirrel like you wandering through here before."

A twig snapped somewhere to her left, and Sally hissed as her own flinch caused her hands to tense and the pain returned. "I doubt you know every creature that lives in the Wild Wood, sir. Therefore it does not surprise me that you do not know me."

"Hmm..." the sinfully rich voice hummed in response to her right and Sally's head snapped in that direction, eyes searching fervently. But she jumped when the voice continued to her left again... right beside her. "Would you like me to take a look at that?"

Sally's head snapped back towards the origin of the voice and jumped away when she found a weasel, with a walking cane, leaning on the tree beside her. "Wh-where did you come from?"

The weasel smirked and pointed behind himself with his cane before leaning it against the tree. "Your hands... may I see them?"

Sally backed up a few more paces when he stepped towards her. "With respect, sir, I don't know you."

"Nor I you." He chuckled and stepped forward again. "Let's agree to meet in mutual distrust then, shall we?"

Her hands stung from the still open wounds and she could feel droplets of blood dripping through the fingers of her left hand. "I..." she paused and glanced around herself again, eyeing the weasel suspiciously. "Are you alone?"

"I am." The Weasel admitted with a smile before quirking an eyebrow at her. "Are you?" he waited for her to respond, and she received a deceptively charming smile from the Weasel when she nodded. "Good. Just the two of us then." He strode forward and wrapped his clawed fingers lightly around her wrists, lifting her hands so he could inspect them better.

"The Weasel and the Squirrel..." Sally laughed nervously. "What will people think?!" she joked as she watched his eyes look over her hands, and was glad when she saw him smile... and then let her hands go. "So? Do you think it requires amputation, Doctor?"

The Weasel smirked as he reached into his pockets and pulled out white cloths. "Hardly." He chuckled as he took her left hand again, and then the right, and tied the cloth around both injured appendages. "There... that should see you home... just clean them properly when you get there." He instructed seriously.

Sally smiled uncertainly. "Thankyou..." she paused when he tipped his hat to her and turned to collect his cane again. "Wait!" she called and paused in her step towards him when he turned. "To whom do I owe my debt of thanks?"

The Weasel gave her a smug smile and bowed. "Clarence Weasel, at your service, mademoiselle."

"Sally Squirrel." Sally pinched her skirts between her fingers and lifted them slightly as she curtsied, bowing her head respectfully before standing straight again. "At yours..."

The Weasel looked her up and down briefly, and pleased smile tugged at his features as he pulled his glasses down for her to see his eyes when he approached her again and gently took one of her hands in his; pressing a light kiss to her knuckles. "A pleasure..." He pushed his glasses back up to hide his eyes again as he released her hand and pointed off behind them both. "Now, home with you, Sally Squirrel."

Sally didn't need telling twice. She turned on her heel and practically sprinted out of the Wild Wood; barely managing to hold onto the rope back across the river on her way home. But she made it; convincing her mother that her injured hands hand been the result of some rusted nails at the docks just past Mr. Rat's place on the river.

"Oh!" her mother called as she came back from the front doorbell ringing. "Sally! There's a letter for you, dearest!"

Sally frowned but accepted the envelope anyway... her breath catching in her throat as she read the ostentatiously scrawled note:

I hope to see more of you,my dear Sally.

Sincerely,

Clarence Weasel 

PS: Don't ever think you can hide from me.

She swallowed thickly as she looked out the window behind her mother, the note crushed in the fist her hand made; ignoring the lingering pain from her fall as she tossed the scrunched up paper into the fire beside her. What had she gotten herself into?!


End file.
